


Of Cats and Rats

by WolfIsa



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Bryn is a furry for this story I've so decreed, Dem fuzzy bois, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pickpockets, Polyamory, Stealing, There's so many Khajiit, Thieves Guild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-01 04:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfIsa/pseuds/WolfIsa
Summary: Zasha is new to Skyrim and doesn't understand this new land's culture.  This leads to him becoming a target of a certain sticky-fingered Nord and his partner but not with entirely bad intentions despite the nature of their 'work'.
Relationships: Brynjolf (Elder Scrolls)/Original Male Character(s), Brynjolf (Elder Scrolls)/S'ariq (Elder Scrolls - Mod), Brynjolf (Elder Scrolls)/S'ariq (Elder Scrolls - Mod)/Zasha (Elder Scrolls - Original Character)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	Of Cats and Rats

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry to anyone who wanted to see where this story was going but I've made the decision to drop this particular fic in favour of a one-shot series featuring Zasha in a bunch of different adventures and scenarios so hopefully those will capture your interest as much as this fic had started to.

“Were you going to buy something or just stand there?” Madesi’s arms crossed over his chest, a nail starting to tap on his elbow as he watched the Khajiit in front of him stand there and keep staring at his wares. This feline was not like the others in the caravans, very clearly from the homeland with little to no experience with the outside world the shopkeeper realized within the first five minutes of interaction-- he didn’t look like the caravaneers either. If it weren’t for the spotted fur around his face and limbs, the ears and tail, he would’ve just assumed this was an overly tattooed mer that talked strangely. 

“Well?”

At the second question, the spotted-redhead lifted his eyes from the trinkets laid out on the tabletop to meet the other male’s, “Zasha is thinking, don’t rush him or you won’t get his coin.” He then went back to staring which only proved to gain an eye roll from the lizard in front of him.

This went on further for another few minutes, the Argonian growing more bored than annoyed as time passed until he spotted a familiar redheaded figure out of the corner of his eye come up to stand behind the Khajiit. A common sight in Riften usually, if one knew what to look for, and this particular person and situation was hard to miss. However, he kept his mouth shut. He figured this would be payment for his wasted time.

Shortly after the person behind Zasha left, the feline finally made his choice and went to reach for his coin purse. His hand touched his pocket and his eyes grew wide in panic. He inserted his humanoid paw into the pocket, jostling it around inside the fabric, then did the same with the opposite, his tail and ears flicking about wildly as he tried to find the pouch that contained his septims, all the while Madesi fought to keep from grinning at the knowledge of what just happened.

“This one can’t find his money! He just had it!” the Khajiit exclaimed, his voice full of the panic and worry one that had just experienced being robbed provided.

“That’s a shame. Looks like you got pickpocketed. It happens here a lot, you know? Riften is the home of the Thieves Guild after all,” the Argonian told him sarcastically, his voice carrying feigned concern. “Looks like you won’t be getting anything today. Too bad. Now get lost, I’ve got other customers.”

Zasha’s ears drooped, “But this one wanted…”

“_Get _ . _ Lost_,” the lizard repeated, making a motion with his hand to shoo the other male away.

The spotted-redhead reluctantly slinked away, still searching his pockets in the vain hope his purse was just misplaced and not gone but once he’d reached the outer portion of the main market area, he realized he had in fact been stolen from. That wouldn’t do; he still had to buy food for himself and his brother who was waiting for him outside the gate and he really wanted that necklace from Madesi’s stall. 

He turned to the market, eyes scanning all the people in the area as his hands anxiously twisted together beneath his shawl, teeth chewing on his bottom lip, when he noticed a man, one of the stall owners watching him. 

“You seem to be a bit distressed, lad. What happened?” the Nord asked, leaning his elbows over the stone wall behind his shop to address the feline, a slight frown on his lips.

“This one’s coin purse was pickpocketed…” Zasha admitted, his voice low with embarrassment. 

“That sounds terrible. I wouldn’t suggest going to the guards about it though. They don’t really care unless you can prove it and even then, they probably wouldn’t do anything about it. It happens so often around here, everyone just turns a blind eye most of the time.”

“Then what is Khajiit supposed to do? His brother is waiting for him and for food,” the feline told him, starting to hope that maybe he could get some help or advice or even a handout from this shopkeep.

“Well…” the man leaned over further, his voice dimming to that of a low whisper, looking the feline over with a pointed gaze, “If you can recognize your purse, you could always just...take it back. After all, it’s your money, lad, it wouldn’t _ actually _be stealing,” he suggested.

Zasha pondered this for a moment before he leaned in as well, tail swaying lightly behind him as he inspected the other male’s face, trying to gauge his intentions but finding himself only admiring the friendliness and seeming sympathy of his expression instead. “Then why are we whispering?” was all he managed to think of in reply to the suggestion.

The vendor laughed a bit before standing upright again, “Don’t worry about it but that’s my advice. It’s getting to be evening now so whatever you decide to do, you best be quick about it or everyone will leave the market and you might miss your chance,” he told him, motioning to the shopper population behind him that was beginning to dwindle.

The Khajiit’s ears flicked nervously as he mulled over the Nord’s words again, looking back at the lessening crowd. It wasn’t as if he was bad at sneaking but he didn’t like the idea of possibly getting in trouble in a foreign place. Then again, the man said it wasn’t actually stealing since it was his own money he would be taking back-- surely if he was only looking, anyone that didn’t have it wouldn’t mind, right? He chewed on his lip for a second before he made his choice.

Zasha waited a little longer for the sun to start to set, the shadows from the buildings creating small pockets of darkness he could hide in to try and peek into passerby’s pockets and bags as they passed him to head into the tavern from the market. He thought it was going well enough, having checked a whole five people so far without being caught or slapped or anything but he was getting a bit frustrated the longer this went on as no one seemed to have his money. At one point he thought he’d found it but it turned out not to be his but rather the person's purse instead and as he went to pull his hand away, his bracelet got caught on a thread of the fabric of their pocket and the ensuing tugging became highly noticeable.

“Guards! Thief!” the woman shouted and Zasha ripped his hand away, holding both in the air to show they were empty and protesting that he wasn’t trying to steal from her but it didn’t matter. 

Two guards were on him lightning fast, complaining about how all Khajiit were thieves and this wasn’t surprising, fighting to keep the struggling Khajiit still as they got his hands behind his back. The feline called to the shopkeeper that had helped him earlier but all the man could do was shrug and ask the city defenders to be gentle since he was new to the city and probably just thought the rumors about the Guild meant it was allowed. This didn’t strike Zasha as an odd excuse until after he was already behind bars.

* * *

“...Zasha got tricked…” he mumbled to himself, having thought about the strange advice and the following lack of assistance to prove his innocence for a few hours after being arrested. It had grown quiet by then, most of the guards inside the prison were eating upstairs leaving him and the other prisoners alone.

“There is a lot of that here,” came a voice from down the hall, coming towards his cell.

The spotted-redhead approached the bars of his cage to see who it had come from only to find another Khajiit stand before the door, a Cathay from the looks of it. Dark gray fur with stripes, decently tall with some bright red stripes beneath his eyes that made the yellow orbs seem smaller, more intense than they really were; he looked lovely, Zasha thought. In fact, he looked so lovely, the Ohmes-Raht caught himself staring and forced himself to stop.

“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.

“Tricks and robbery run thick in this city. S’ariq understands this, it seems you do not?”

“Zasha didn't know Skyrim was so cruel but supposes he does now,” the spotted-redhead replied, leaning his head against one of the bars. “This one didn’t even do anything really. Now he’s without money and in prison and his brother won’t have any food…”

“What do they say you did?” S’ariq questioned, the sympathy in his voice sounding much more sincere than what the other feline had picked up on from the vendor that got him into this mess.

“They said this one was pickpocketing but he was _ only _ looking. Khajiit is the one that got stolen from and he was just trying to find his money.” 

“Why didn’t you go to the guards?”

“One of the shopkeepers told Zasha that they wouldn’t believe him and he should just find it himself. He said it wouldn’t be stealing since it was Zasha’s money in the first place but the guards arrested him anyway when he got caught looking,” the Ohmes-Raht explained.

“What did this shopkeeper look like?” 

“He had red hair on his head and face...and wore a really nice outfit. He was selling this strange potion and kept calling this one ‘lad’,” the spotted-redhead described, each time he said a different thing bringing out a finger as if he were counting. “He seemed really nice and had a really pretty smile but Zasha guesses it was just an act...”

“Ah. So Brynjolf wasn’t lying to this one. He really did mess up.”

A familiar chuckle sounded from the end of the hall followed by footsteps before the subject of the Khajiit’s description came in to view. “Sorry, lad. I honestly didn’t think you’d get caught. I just wanted to see your skills.” 

Zasha’s ears flattened when he saw the man, a low hiss passing his lips, “You got this one arrested and didn’t help! It’s your fault his brother goes hungry tonight!”

The redhead held up his hands and backed away from the cell bars, moving to stand next to the other Khajiit, “Whoa there. It’s okay. I’m sorry I tricked you but I’m here to get you out. Calm down, lad.”

Zasha hissed again before the striped Khajiit came closer to the cell bars.

“He is very upset, _ ahziss jasiir_. S’ariq told you it was not a good idea to trick one of his kind like that. Especially one so new to the ways of Skyrim,” he explained to the man. “This is why we are here now, to make up for your mistake.”

Zasha’s anger began to fade somewhat in favour of confusion, “You two are-?”

“Partners,” the Cathay told him, not clarifying further despite the nickname he’d called the Nord.

Brynjolf approached Zasha’s cell again, one hand still up but he held the keys to his gate in it. “Don’t worry about that right now, lad. I’ll make it up to you for everything. I’ve talked to the guards and gotten your release secured. I even have your septims.”

“You do? How did you find them?” the spotted-redhead asked, watching as the other male moved to unlock his cell before rushing to grab his things and step out. 

“He’s the one that stole them in the first place,” S’ariq revealed, arms crossing over his chest. 

“_You _—” Zasha started to growl, tail whipping back and forth wildly behind him as the anger returned before the striped Khajiit stepped in between him and the man. 

“This one understands you are upset and mad and as penance for tricking you as well as stealing from you, Khajiit has instructed Brynjolf to buy you and your brother food for tonight as well,” he told him, voice stern, as he glanced back at the redhead. 

Brynjolf almost said something but when S’ariq’s eyes narrowed at him with that look, he nodded instead. 

Zasha’s tail slowed down but didn’t stop, his ears barely coming back up from their position, “Khajiit will believe you when he has his purse back and food in his belly.”

“That is fair. S’ariq understands and apologizes as well, this was not how he wanted to meet you. Return his money, Brynjolf, and let us go to the tavern and get his food,” the other Khajiit agreed, turning to his partner. 

“Ah, but, this one’s brother eats a lot of food. Busdan is Senche-Raht,” the spotted-redhead pointed out, which caused S’ariq to pause and huff a somewhat amused sigh out his nose. 

“_Sen _ \- _ what _now?” the Nord had to ask, looking to the darker Khajiit as he clearly had no idea what Zasha was talking about.

“You will see but it does not change things. You will still buy supper for them.”

* * *

Brynjolf protested once the total for food came to an exorbitant amount at the Bee and Barb and he continued all the way out the front gates of the city. “Who eats this much venison?” he argued.

“Busdan does,” Zasha told him, adjusting the basket full of food in his arms with S’ariq only nodding in agreement.

_How _? This is more meat than is on a sing—” the Nord continued until they arrived at the Ohmes-Raht’s tent where he trailed off upon seeing the other male’s ‘brother’.

Inside the tent laid an absolutely massive jet-black jaguar looking cat that nearly took up the entire thing on it’s own. It’s head turned toward the three approaching as it heard their steps crunching on the leaves around the area.

“Zasha has returned, Busdan,” the Khajiit exclaimed as he trotted up to the larger feline, turning back to look at the other two once he’d set the basket down. “This is Zasha’s little brother, Busdan. Busdan, this is the smelly trickster Brynjolf and his partner, S’ariq.”

The striped Khajiit could only hold back a snicker at what Zasha had called the redhead but Brynjolf couldn’t stop staring. He actually took a few steps back when the gigantic cat went to get up on his feet, his height even on all fours coming up to just under the spotted-redhead’s chin. 

“_Little _brother?”

“That is what he meant by Senche-Raht, _ ahziss jasiir _,” S’ariq explained, nodding in acknowledgment to the other Khajiit in question.

“This one was wondering when you would return, Zasha. He was getting worried,” the jaguar told his brother and this caused the redhead to jump slightly.

“He talks?!” 

“Of course he does. He is Khajiit like S’ariq and Zasha. You have much to learn about our people, Brynjolf,” S’ariq told him.

“This one is sorry. He got in trouble and it was Brynjolf’s fault but he made it up to him by getting us supper,” Zasha said, taking out a wrapped salmon and setting it aside so he could take out the raw venison chops for the larger feline. 

“What did he do to get you in trouble?” Busdan questioned, eyes locking on to the Nord.

“He stole Zasha’s septims and then tricked him into looking for them. Zasha got caught and got locked up in a cage but Brynjolf and S’ariq let him out and gave his money back and bought us food,” the spotted-redhead replied as he went to sit down and start eating. However when he noticed a rumble from his brother’s throat, a sign the larger was getting angry he added, “He’s not a bad person, he just wanted to play a trick on Zasha. It just wasn’t a very good trick.”

The jaguar’s eyes still didn’t move away from the Nord until S’ariq approached and sat down across from the other two of his kind. 

“Khajiit made him apologize and make amends for it all. It was not what S’ariq wanted when he asked him to test him,” the striped-Khajiit explained, “This one saw you both arrive earlier today and thought Zasha would make a good addition to our Guild.”

The spotted-redhead had already dug in and with a mouthful of fish asked, “Guild?”

Brynjolf picked up the explanation once he’d been seated, sitting as far away from the larger Khajiit and as close to S’ariq as possible, scooting closer when Busdan started to eat as well. “Yes. We run an organization, the one Madesi told you about when I had taken your coin pouch. S’ariq told me about you, lad, and wanted me to give you a test to see if you would be a good fit to join. When I saw you myself, I saw some potential in you and wanted to see if I was right. I was.”

“It was a terrible test but it did show you were capable,” S’ariq added.

“You want this one to what? Be a thief?” Zasha inquired before taking another bite.

“Not so loud but yes, that’s what we were thinking, lad.”

The Ohmes-Raht finished chewing and swallowed, chuckling a little, “But Zasha is a bard, not a thief. He doesn’t take things that don’t belong to him...often.”

“You could be both,” Brynjolf started but the striped Khajiit interrupted. 

“We will not force you to take this offer if you don’t want, Zasha but it is something we both think would benefit us and you and your brother. You will still be able to travel too if you so desired.”

Zasha sat back, still eating but far slower than before as he contemplated the thieves’ proposal. Green eyes stared at both of them, making the pair feel slightly uncomfortable and Brynjolf was starting to understand why Madesi had just let him pickpocket the Khajiit in the first place. 

“What do you think, Busdan?” finally he asked his brother, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“This one thinks you should do what you want as you always have. Busdan will support you no matter the decision.”

The smaller Khajiit frowned at that reply, cheeks puffed slightly. That wasn’t what he was looking for. He then looked back to the partners, “Would Khajiit get stolen from again?”

Both shook their heads. “Not from anyone associated with the Guild, lad,” the redhead assured.

“Would Zasha’s brother be allowed to come inside the city?”

“We could probably get him into the Ratway but...we would have to sneak him in. He’s so big he would scare people,” Brynjolf explained, leaning a bit closer to his partner when the jaguar glanced over at him again.

“Busdan can stay out here, Zasha. The caravans come by often enough, he won’t always be alone and you will be right inside. We could still travel together like S’ariq says too.”

“But Zasha doesn’t want to be the only one allowed,” Zasha said, pouting with his ears low. 

The jaguar bumped his head against his brother’s arm, “Do not worry about this one. He will be fine.”

The spotted-redhead pulled his feet up closer to himself and fell silent again as he finished his fish, bringing his knees to his chest once done. 

“You could come and see him any time you wanted. S’ariq promises,” the Cathay told him, wanting to comfort the obvious struggle the other male was having over his decision. “It would not be much different from how you have been living so far. You would just be making money by taking things. Money you could use to buy food and jewelry.”

“Or new instruments. You said you were a bard, right lad?” the Nord chimed in.

“Zasha _ does _need new strings for his Cittern…” the smaller feline considered but was still hesitant.

“What else could this one say to convince you?” S’ariq asked.

Zasha looked at the other, biting his lip like he had earlier when he was debating searching pockets. “Khajiit doesn’t want to end up in jail again.”

“You would not, at least not if you learned more and were more careful. S’ariq will train you.”

“I will too. You’ve got potential, lad. I want to see it bloom.”

Zasha’s ears began to flick as he continued to debate. It was apparent to everyone that this was a difficult thing for him to decide on.

“Tell you what. We’ll come back in the morning, give you the night to think it over, okay?” Brynjolf suggested with a soft smile. “Whatever you decide we’ll go with.”

“Okay...This one agrees to that,” Zasha answered with a slight nod. 

S’ariq got onto his knees and leaned over, patting the Ohmes-Raht on the head, “Do not stress yourself out over this. We will come to see you in the morning.”

Zasha nodded again, "_Jer vara darras_, S'ariq," he noted as the thieves got up to leave, moving to lay on his brother’s side as he continued to think.

* * *

“He called my smile pretty. I think I’ve got a shot,” Brynjolf commented once they got far enough away from earshot. “That brother is terrifying though.”

“He also called you a smelly trickster. This one thinks your ego is too big. Busdan can help Khajiit keep it in check,” S’ariq replied, stepping to the side to bump his hip against the redhead’s, his tail patting against his rear upon contact eliciting a flirtatious chuckle from the man. 

“Hey, he seemed to like you too.”

The striped-Khajiit gave a muted smile, “S’ariq likes him too.”

**Author's Note:**

> ahziss jasiir: my twilight  
Jer vara darras: you are kind


End file.
